Weekend Recap

A common thread in a lot of the blogs I read is that they all post a weekend recap full of all of the exciting things that they did with their two days off.  And there are loads of glorious pictures.  It is very entertaining and a nice way to see how others spend their weekends.

So I thought I would do the same.   But unlike the cool blogger kids, I do not have any pictures to include in my post.  Probably because my weekend does not include cool things like eating out or getting dressed up or going out on social outings.

My weekend consisted of:

-Chinese Takeout

-Horrible movies

-Sleeping ten hours a night

-Cleaning

-Doing errands

-Running 11 miles

-Buying a new blazer

It may not sound terribly exciting, but it was the perfect weekend.  A great combination of relaxing (see: ten hours of sleep a night) and activity (see: errands and 11 miles of running).  It was rough when the alarm went off at 6 this morning and I had to bid adieu to my weekend.

Happy Monday,

Granny

Bad News Bears

There is something that has been upsetting me over the last couple days even more than the two painful pimples I have right in the crease of my nose right now.

If you all recall, I love getting new toothpaste.  I also love brushing my teeth.  I like to think of brushing my teeth as a massage for my gums.  And when I get new toothpaste it is extra exciting because you don't know what that massage is going to...taste like. (???)

Every time I buy toothpaste I get something different.  Sometimes I get Crest, sometimes Colgate, sometimes Aim.  It's always a minty surprise.

And on Wednesday when I bought a new tube of toothpaste it was no different.  I stood in the dental section of Hannafords for 10 minutes debating which brand was best.  I finally made my decision and was beyond thrilled to go home and open the new tube of toothpaste and squeeze out the paste on to my toothbrush.  I could not wait to get home and brush my teeth.

Finally it was time for bed and therefore time to clean my chompers.  I shouted down to Mg. G, "I'M OPENING THE NEW TOOTHPASTE!  I WONDER WHAT COLOR IT WILL BE?  DO YOU THINK IT'S CREAMY?  OR GEL?  OR MAYBE BOTH?  DO YOU THINK IT WILL HAVE BITS OF SPARKLES IN IT?!?!?!"

The response to Mr. G was a deafening silence.

I ripped open the carton, opened the lid, and squeezed out some blue toothpaste onto my OralB automatic toothbrush.

"ITS A MIX!  ITS HALF CREAMY HALF GEL!  AND ITS BLUE!!!"

"...."

"OH BOY, I AM SO EXCITED!"

"...."

And I started to brush my teeth.

And it was disgusting.  

The worst toothpaste in the history of man kind.  It tasted horrible.  Furthermore, it left a weird feeling on my teeth when I was finished.  And even worse, it left the horrible taste in my mouth for ever.  For infinity.

This is my worst nightmare.  Since Wednesday night I have literally dreaded brushing my teeth.  "Maybe I can chew gum this morning instead of using nasty mcnasty toothpaste?"  "Who cares about plaque or morning breath.  I am protesting this toothpaste!" "My gums don't need their twice daily massage today..." But my sanity prevailed and I brushed and cringed and gagged each time.

In other news, do you love my fancy pajamas and giant, mutant hand?

I am headed to Hannafords again after work tonight to get a new tube of toothpaste.  And I am already giddy with excitement about brushing my teeth tonight.  Good riddance shit ass Crest Complete Toothpaste, I bid you adieu.

Love,

Granny

I love you

With January coming to a close and February upon us, that means my mind is in full Valentines Day gear.

Just kidding.  I don't really care that much about Valentines day.

Mostly I like that I may get a new little gift, and have a great excuse to make an indulgent meal.

Complete with something "red velvet" for dessert since it is red for love and all.

And I love red velvet cupcakes.

Here are how us Goodwins have spent Valentines day of years past:

1) Mr. G did not get me flowers or anything.  Not even a card.  Nothing.  I made him dinner and got him a card.  And I complained.

2) Mr. G got me a box of four chocolates.  And a card.  I made him dinner and a card.  I complained.

3) 9 years into it, Mr. G started to learn a little and had flowers waiting for me at home (from the grocery store) and a gift from Victoria's Secret.  I got him a giant (read: expensive) red tool chest (red for love) and made him dinner (complete with Irish Car Bomb Cupcakes.  Which he did not eat because he doesn't like dessert.).  I didn't complain too much.

This year I started early with Mr. G.  We are ten years into our relationship and I am trying to get him to see that he needs to work hard to keep the heat alive.  And that Valentines day is a great day to do that.  So for the last few nights, as we lay in bed and discuss our day, or dreams, our goals, etc, I have been asking Mr. G about Valentines day and what his plans are.

"Where are you taking me for dinner on Valentines day this year, darling?"

"If I have to take you out, we are going to Pizza Hut."

"What kind of flowers are you having delivered to me this year for Valentines day, darling?"

*this one has a few different responses.

"None.  I will have flowers for you at home."

"Mac's grocery story doesn't deliver flowers.  I have to go pick them up."

"What are you getting me as my gift for Valentine's day this year, honey?"

"No fucking clue."

"Ok, fine, I am making dinner, what do you want me to make?"

"Lobster, with filet mignon, a twice stuffed baked potato, and salad."

"And RED VELVET CUPCAKES!  RED FOR LOVE!"

"No, no cupcakes.  I'm sweet enough as is.  I wont eat them."

So it appears that my man wants nothing to do with Valentines day, especially the best part of the holiday (red velvet cupcakes, which I will still be making), except that he wants me to make him a big expensive and fancy dinner.

Off to google how to cook Filet Mignon...

How do non grannies celebrate St. Valentine?

Zzzzzzzz

It dawned on me yesterday that this is my first full week back at work since the week of December 12th.  I am going to be pooped by Friday.

Correction: I am already pooped.

On top of my additional work hours this week, I have been taking some new muscle relaxers and anti anxiety medication for my neck pain.

I'm sorry, I just fell asleep at my computer.

All I want to do is wear sweat pants, sleep for 10-11 hours a night, go for a run outside in the sun today, and then watch Rescue Me and Mad Men and then maybe restart Friday Night Lights all over again.  And have Chinese Takeout delivered.  And maybe take a bath but certainly not a shower.  Too much work.  And then start all over with the sleeping for 10-11 hours. 

And get a massage.  

And kiss my husband.

And not put makeup on, blow dry my hair, or shave my legs.

 I am too tired for anything else in life.

Love,

Exhausted Bubbie

Swoon

I am a modern day gal and to me romance is not necessarily going out to a fancy dinner and getting showered with chocolates, flowers, glittery things, and champagne (although that is nice once in awhile).

To me, romance is my husband waking up early and cleaning off my car for me after it snowed all night.

Thank you, shnookums.

Philly Part Deux

Because I know you are all waiting with baited breath...

I am going to list out what I ate while in Philly.  Every last thing.

Friday morning started out healthy enough with an apple, a double dub cheese stick, and half a multigrain bagel with low fat cream cheese.  But then my plane was late and I had to resort to eating two mini chocolate chip cookies I had packed to give to my friends who were hosting me.  I was starving after all.  And then I was bumped to first class so I had to take advantage of the free booze and so I had a bloody mary.

Then I arrived in the city of brotherly love and we immediately drove off to get me a 24 point Philly cheesesteak (complete with mushrooms, peppers and onions, thankyouverymuch) and a blue moon.

I burned those 700 calories though by running up the famed "Rocky" steps in 30 seconds.

That is what I told myself at least.

Hours later we were at happy hour downing grapefruit cocktails.

Only to return home to takeout pizza and a bottle of vino.  And some salads.

And two cookies.

And a caramel filled chocolate bar.

Saturday I woke to egg whites with turkey sausage and veggies.  A great and healthy start to the day!  This healthy start was followed hours later by a mostly healthy salad (mixed greens, 1 oz chicken, artichokes, onions, and some lemon dressing) AND a stupid roll and some promise fake butter spread (which were fucking delicious).  Which was immediately followed by a child size popcorn (WITH BUTTER) at the movies.

Cut to dinner, which was grande margaritas and veggie and crab quesadillas (those actually were healthy.  And to die for) topped with a smidge of fat free sour cream.

And then a handful of mini peanut butter cups.

And then out to karaoke where I had "low point" vodka drinks.

And a not so "low point" shot.

Cut to two am, where I noshed on Triscuits with cheddar cheese and pickles.

Woke up Sunday and had some Matzoh Ball soup, a chocolate milk, and half of a nasty ass roast beef panini.  Only had 3 french fries.  Couldn't handle any more than that after the fake roast beef shit they tried to serve me.

Slept off those calories on the plane and landed in New England to some delicious Thai food (if you must know, I had some coconut chicken soup, 1 piece of chicken satay, and some drunken noodles and pad thai).

Needless to say, I am detoxing this week.  Tea and 0 pt. double dub soup own me.

Love,
Granny

In West Philadelphia born and raised

That's right, I spent my 3 day weekend in Philly visiting some friends.  It was my first time in the city of brother love and boy oh boy was it fantastic.  Here is what I learned while spending 3 days in Philly:

People from Northeast Philly pronounce "water" as "wooder."

Internet friends are fabulous.

Philly Cheesesteaks are fucking delicious

They are also 24 WW points.

The stairs from Rocky are not that challenging.  I did them all in about 20 seconds.  2 at a time.

I'm awesome.

It can be colder in Philly than in Vermont.

The Vice Presidential Motorcade takes fucking forever.

I suck at karaoke.

I like shots called "butter nipples."

Regardless of taking weeks worth of medications, I am still allergic to dogs.

I still really want a dog.

Breakfast is delicious when someone else makes it for you.

Margaret Thatcher was a bitch.

Meryl Streep is a goddess.

Ulta rules.

I cannot stay up until 3 am.  It is bad for my health.

I have wonderful friends.

Sorry, no photos, as I am a complete jackass and forgot my camera back in VT while on this little adventure.  And that is all there is to say about the weekend, as I am still recovering.

Until next time,

Bubbie

10

10 years is a long time.  Do you remember turning ten and how excited you were to be at an age with double digits?!  I don't remember much about that time, but I do remember every one around me saying "wow, double digits!"

10 years is a decade.  And in the last decade I have seen and experienced quite a few things.

10 years ago we were still grieving from the September 11th attacks.
We went through not one but two presidential elections.

I was able to vote.
Over the last ten years I have graduated high school, gone to two different colleges, and moved to Vermont, then California, then back to Vermont.
Ten years ago Nsync was still popular.  So was Nelly.
In the last ten years the introduction of the hybrid car was made.

We saw three "Lord of the Rings" and four "Pirates of the Caribbean."

Within the last ten years I went through five cars.
This country engaged in two wars in the last decade.
The Pope died.
During the last ten years the Sox won the world series.

"Friends" went off the air.
Facebook was created.
We experienced Hurricane Katrina.

In the last ten years, Judd Apatow introduced us to eleven hits, including "Anchorman," "40 year old Virgin," "Knocked Up," "Super Bad," and "Bridesmaids."

I have been to Mexico three times this last decade.
We saw gas prices soar from less than a dollar to nearly five dollars over the last ten years.

 Osama Bid Laden was killed.

We met Harry Potter and watched him and his friends grow up over ten years.

The Prince and Princess of England got married.

We have seen a black man elected president.

"The Office" was introduced to America.

We saw five different years of Olympics in the past decade.

One pop sensation died (MJ) and another shaved her head.

I went to eleven weddings in the last ten years.

We saw leather pants come into style, leave and then return again in the form of skinny leather pants over the last decade.

As you can see, a lot has happened.  I have experienced quite a bit.  The world has changed quite a bit.

But most important to me was ten years ago today.

Ten years ago today, Mr. G asked me to be his girlfriend in the hallway outside of Mr. Keane's English class.

And the rest is history.

Happy no-longer-our-real-but-still-special-ten-year-anniversary, my darling husband.

I love you even more than I did a decade ago.

Xo, Bubbie

Nothing to see here

Y'all remember how back in 2008 there was a fad going around on the old facebook where people would write a note of 25 random things about themselves?  It was quite the craze.   So big, that Us Magazine, my favorite of the tabloids, instated a regular section called "25 Facts you don't know about me" and every week they have a celebrity list 25 facts that, shockingly, we don't know about them.

It is a favorite of mine when I flip through the magazine.  I love to see what I have in common with the celebs.  Alternately, I love to see how random some of them are, and what freaks others are.  

The point is, a few weeks (months?) ago a friend of mine Posted on her blog her 25 random facts and I was howling with laughter.  After some encouragement, I decided to grace you all with the presence of my very own list of "25 facts you don't (already) know about me."

Without further ado....

1. I cannot sleep without a fan.  I travel with one.  I do not camp because there is no electricity.  When we lose power, I simply do not sleep.  I MUST HAVE A FAN.

2.  Egg yolk is creepy.  I only like it in the form of deviled eggs.

3.  I love the half-popped kernels of popcorn more than the full popped pieces of popcorn.

4.  I can say the alphabet backwards.

5.  I can fit my fist in my mouth.

6.  I cannot sleep at night without reading.  I fall asleep every night with a book on my face.

7.  I have to be the first person to use a tube of toothpaste.  If we get a new toothpaste I will hide it until we are ready to open it just so Mr. G cannot get to it first.

8.  Mascara is my favorite makeup.

9.  I have been to 44 states.

10.  I hate taking showers.

11.  I have been with my husband for 10 years this week.

12.  I have seen very few 80s movies and none of the cult classics.  No Sixteen Candles, Pretty in Pink, Ferris Bueller...

13.  I love to munch on raw noodles.

14.  I plan all of my meals a full week in advance.  Even lunches for work.

15.  I hate regular potato chips but Capital L Love kettle cooked chips.

16.  I have never been to Europe. (Darling, lets rectify this ASAP.)

17.  I prefer cakes over pies.

18.  I drink a mug of lemon zinger tea every weekday morning.

19.  If I do not poop at least once I day I am miserable.

20.  I always chew gum.  Trident Original.

21.  I haven't had cable for over 3 years.  I do not miss it.

22.  I fly regularly (I have 16 flights scheduled so far for 2012) but I am terrified of flying.

23.  I have the worlds worst motion sickness.

24.  I am allergic to everything.  Dogs, cats, horses, dust, walnuts, makeup...I get hives almost daily.

25.  I have 16 games of WWF going right now.  Do not add me.  I cannot handle any more.

Depression Confession

No, I do not have a real mental disorder.

But...

I know that Friday Night Lights has been off the air for awhile now.  And that people loved that show starting way back in 2006.  But I am always behind the bandwagon and did not start watching that shit until October.

After episode one I was hooked.

After season one I was already depressed thinking about the series being over.

"Only 4 more seasons to watch.  How depressing."

Over the last few months I have watched this show on a regular basis (bless your heart, Netflix) and fallen in love with the characters.

No, really.

I forget that the actors are just acting and that Matt Saracen is not real and that he is not my BFF.

I forget that Tim and Billy Riggins are not the bad -boys-trying-to-make-good in my small Texas town. (Forget about the fact that I do not live anywhere near Dillon, Texas...) (And Forget about the fact that Tim Riggins is my boyfriend on the side.)

I forget the the Taylors are not my parents/greatest friends and that we do not in fact live with them in their little house in Dillon, Texas drinking white wine with them on the reg.

As you can see, I got quite involved with the show.  To say I love it is an understatement.

Obsessed might be more accurate.

Crazy might be even better.

So when I was finishing up season five last week, it is no surprise that I slipped into a depression and I have not yet come out.

With three episodes left to go, I started tearing up.  I would be in the kitchen and something would remind me of my BFF Matt (and his BFF Landry) and I would just start crying.

"WHY IS MATT NOT GOING TO BE IN MY LIFE ANYMORE?!" I would wail to Mr. G.

"I DON'T WANT TO LIVE WITHOUT THE TAYLORS!" I would sob.

"NO MORE TIM RIGGINS?!?!?!?"

This is not a joke.  I really did start crying regularly when I would think about the 200 minutes that were left of FNL.  200 minutes.  

200.

minutes.

I was in no way ready for my relationship with my fake, fictional friends to end.

It has been a few days since I finally had to say goodbye to my favorite fictional friends and I am still not over it.

This morning I was driving by a football field and I obviously started thinking about Coach and Mrs. Coach, Matt and Julie, Tim and Billy, and while driving in to work I just teared right up again.

"Why aren't they real??!!"

Just googling mages for this post, I got heart palpitations looking at the wall full of FNL images.

"Why don't I live in Dillon with the FNL characters??!!"

All I want to do is have FNL continue on for infinity.  Is that too much to ask?

Clear eyes.  Full hearts.  Can't lose.

Still sobbing,

Bubbie

Twenty Twelve

I know most other blogs this week are talking about resolutions.

But it's my blog and I can do what I want.

And I want to talk about my resolutions.

Er, resolution.  One.  Singular.  

And it is not very exciting.

Every year I vow to lose weight.  

I know I need to learn to be happy with my body, I am after all relatively healthy (no chips, donuts, or cookies eaten here!) and I work out pretty regularly.  I know that being stick thin is not healthy and that too much emphasis is placed on an unnatural ideal.  But, damnit, I want to lose this last 25 pounds.

When I joined double dub last February I started out great.  I was conscious of what I was consuming but I was not starving myself.  I was making choices based on what my body probably needed (fruits and veggies) and not just what I wanted (wine).  I lost 15 pounds.  But towards the end of twenty eleven I slowly stopped paying attention.  Wine flowed.  Cookies were baked.  Weight crept back on my waistline.

Well, New Years Resolutions, you are just the kick in the ass I needed.  I am back on track with double dub.  I am cutting down on the sweets (just threw away some fudge) and the booze.  And further more, I am going to step up my running.  Just because I am not training for anything right now does not mean that I should not be running 20-25 miles a week.  Get your shit together, Goodwin!  Pound the pavement!

For 2012 I want to be FIT.  strong.  Healthy.

And if I treat my body the way it requires in order to be fit, strong, and healthy, chances are I will see those 25 lbs dropped as well.

Win-win.

Happy 2012 and best of luck with your resolutions,

Granny